Thinking in Cicadas

I didn't want to go to class last night, I had been feeling under the weather. But it was the last one and I forced myself along.
After a few minutes of drawing, I felt quite well again.  Below is the result, a cicada from above and beneath on toned paper. When I first started the drawing I gave up as I thought it was too small. As always, my teacher encouraged me to keep going. It is simple advice and it is always correct.

This detailed work is like deep thought. I examined the cicada in every detail from every angle. I noticed the tiny ridges and markings, marveling at the precise detail nature had given the insect despite its diminutive size. It's wings, after years of lifelessness, still maintained a luster and color that would rival a stained glass window.
As my teacher observed, the patterns of its body and head are reminiscent of an Egyptian tomb, the colors reminded me also of those rich hues that Klimt used.  Unfortunately I don't think I did them justice here.

When taking a break, I thought about Frida Kahlo after the accident that was to change her life forever. Art must have been a tremendous release to someone like herself, in pain and confined. I am still amazed that more of us don't do it. There are of course other ways to feel that release and drawing or painting are only two of them. 

My teacher was Peter Loewer.  Illustrator, artist, writer, natural historian, teacher.

Draw to Remember

A new class. This one on drawing from nature. Not an obvious choice based on my interests, though I am a gardener and find natural objects interesting. Drawing is my Achilles' heal which is why this was a good class to choose.

 The precision and detail was demanding but I am quite pleased with what I managed to accomplish. The technique my new teacher recommended had a great similarity with the way my other teacher showed us how to paint. Start by drawing a broad shape that resembles the subject, then fill in with detail. This worked well for me, so that when it came to drawing my second object I felt more confident.

Our teacher began by showing us some slides of drawings, sketches and water colors that revealed the variety of results using the media.  As he went through the slides, he talked about using sketching and drawing to fix moments in one's memory. In particular there was a slide of one of his own drawings that he had done at Kew Gardens in London. He told us that because of this little sketch he remembered everything about the day. This I think, is an important idea and makes me think of why I write poetry. I write poetry to remember a moment, and in so doing that moment is crystallized in a manner that is lacking in typical prose descriptions.  The act of creating embosses that memory and captures the essence. Everyday language can be clunky and frustrating. Art makes communication fluid and nuanced.

Gilt

A few years ago when I was planning my wedding, I really got into kimono silks. So often when I come across a textile I love, I get nervous about doing anything with it. The fans used here seemed an effective way of displaying the fabrics. I think the gold spray paint background sets the colours off nicely. The piece makes me think of Jeff Koons, the gold reminds me of the gold statue he did of Michael Jackson and Bubbles.

The gold seems contemporary in a cold, extravagant way, whereas the silks are warmer and inviting.

Permissions

I think it's time to put inspiration in its place.

In one week, I heard the word ‘permission’ used twice by two different art educators. Once was to describe using a sketchbook through the MOOC I am doing. Another occasion used by the teacher of my evening class on art, in reference to creating without a plan. I found it interesting that they both used that word: ‘permission’. It’s a gentle word, a considered ‘yes’with a gentle hush to it. Don’t ‘force’ or ‘try’ but ‘give yourself permission’ to work, to do. That’s the problem with inspiration, it denies us permission. Should we throw ourselves at the mercy of inspiration, we might never create anything. Inspiration says we should not work but wait and wait and if nothing comes then it is because we are not ‘good’ at whatever it is we're trying to do.

Inspiration is also, I think detrimental to the notion of education and teaching.   Some teachers see themselves as central to the learning process, they feel that it is up to them to inspire their students. I find fault with this. If you as an educator are trying to fill your education with pizazz and 'jazz hands', students become passive, back seat drivers to their own learning. Why bother to be curious when your teacher is going to present what they think is important, and only if they present it in a charismatic way will you sit up and take notice? Educators put excessive amounts of pressure on themselves to perform sometimes, and in so doing lose sight of what is important, creating an environment of curiosity and choice making.Without ego, thanks very much.

From my first degree, I remember the teachers who had charisma coming out of their ears. I do not remember anything about what those charismatic teachers were supposed to be teaching me. It is the pointless performance that lingers.

Below is a picture of the permission I gave myself to hang my work, in a room and not care about how it looks. To me they are each mementoes of an occasion when I was doing something I loved. Each one is a snapshot of a journey I took, sometimes in a class, but it was always between me and the work.  The teacher just gave me an idea of a path to try.

The Art Veterans

I often arrive early to my art class, this time two of the other students were early as well. One of them I recognized from the collage class that I did in the fall.  We got to talking about the classes here at the college and comparing what we had done etc. it seems there is a core group that do these classes repeatedly. I was surprised: when looking for classes, I always focused on ones I hadn't attended. However, now I realize that may not be necessary.  I could do the same classes many times and always come up with new projects, discoveries etc.

That is the beauty of a thoughtful education. It's not about covering the content, ticking boxes, getting something done. If a class is constructive, then it becomes about what YOU are learning. On many occasion, our teacher has given us a task which we all completed with very different results. That is the point, you are growing as yourself, not as others feel you should. Therefore, why not do the same class again?

There is more and more being written about genius, talent and creativity and the most common thread that runs through all these articles, books, blog posts etc. is that creativity is work. According to Milton Glaser 'Good is the enemy of great.' And how does one become great? Through work, through doing.

Painting, Decisions and Meaning

According to Jean Piaget: "Intelligence is what you use when you don't know what to do." This quote became my silent mantra for my most recent art class as I battled with Fauvism and struggled with color fields.
After surprising myself with my first paintings I often ask myself now, perhaps it was a fluke.
 Painting is making decisions even if the decision is to keep going with no plan. It's hard and the results sometimes less than satisfying but it doesn't matter. It really doesn't. The process is the point and the process is becoming my addiction. What  joy it is, after years of being the adult educator to learn something new.

Unlike the beginning acrylics course which was more technical, more methodical, this class feels like a tour through modern art. This time we discussed the Impressionists, the Fauvists and Black Mountain College of Arts whose spirit still lives on in Asheville. I learned that the Impressionists used oils. I thought of those garrets in Paris in the summer, hot humid and reeking of linseed oil. The smell must've been intoxicating.
We learn and then we explore those techniques and it feels to me like I am developing connections with these artists. I mean this with great humility. Actually doing what they did brings it alive. To be honest I think EVERYONE who likes art should do a class, even if you don't have the desire to be an artist. I will never look at art the same again. I'll never look at life the same way again.  John Dewey said this: "Whatever path the work of art pursues, it, just because it is a full and intense experience, keeps alive the power to experience the common world in its fullness." (from 'Art and Experience')

I am sharing what I did, not because I think it is any good but to make those of you also struggling feel better. The finished product here seems so insignificant to the experience of creating it.

Study of Glass and Light

It was with great trepidation that I approached the portion of my acrylics class that required us to practice painting still life. Partly because I never cared for representational art nor understood the point of most still life paintings. The other reason was, I thought I would make a horrible mess of it.
At school my drawings and paintings never looked much like the object I was trying to depict, it seems to be me that to the layman, a picture  is 'good' because they can recognize within the work the object that is being represented. While I have never subscribed to this idea myself, there is still the awareness that, if you are trying to master painting, painting from life is an important exercise, even if you don't intend to continue in that vein and branch off into a more abstract or conceptual direction.
Therefore I approached the exercise with an open mind as best I could. It was very difficult, and I was not impressed with the result. But I did learn a huge amount about composition, light and color.  At some point I realized that you have just stop looking at what you are trying to paint and work with the canvas/surface making decisions that will convince the viewer of the object/s although it may not be directly, visually accurate.

That painting I created showed me where I had gone wrong and where to focus in the next class. So I chose in the next class to paint a group of glass jars - in the previous still life there was a glass jar that didn't work and looked more like a tin can.
Here is the result. Not perfect but I thoroughly enjoyed doing it. It was much tougher than I thought it would be.

 

Again, perfect it is not. For example the jar on the far right was poorly done, the size is too squat and the mouth is not well defined, the bottle in the middle is asymmetrical and the base on the far left one is a mess, lacking depth and with too much heavy colour. BUT I do love the lettering on the far right jar and I like the base of the central bottle. Also think the shadowing works ok and the mouth of the jar on the far right isn't bad.  Now I can understand why Giorgio Morandi spent so much time painting vessels...